Jill glanced at the bulging envelope lying in the passenger's seat as she drove, a feeling of dread settling in her chest. It was late at night and she was on her way to fulfil a command instigated by the letter.
When she had arrived home that evening, she was unable to think of much else, she couldn't even eat; the butterflies in her stomach not letting her. Gordon had declined –somewhat regretfully judging by the look on his face- her offer of dinner; he had promised Katie and Tom that he would spend the evening playing board games with them. It wasn't that he was dreading spending the evening with them, he was looking forward to it, he had explained, it was that he wanted her to be there as well, but because of the circumstances of their relationship, it wasn't possible. And so she had had nothing to occupy her mind as the hour dragged ever closer.
She drove all the way up to the clock tower until her car was directly in front of it. Straining to see her watch in the glow from the streetlight, she saw it was a couple of minutes before midnight.
She wanted to deposit the money and get home as quickly as possible, but she didn't know whether the letter writers wanted the money at exactly midnight. If that was so, they might not get there until then and there was the possibility of the money being stolen, and them therefore thinking she hadn't brought it.
Deciding on the safer option, though neither of them could really be considered safe, she stayed in her car, watching the seconds tick away, and every so often, glancing around, though she saw no one.
As soon as the it hit midnight, she jumped out her car, ran towards the clock tower, placed the envelope containing the one hundred pounds on top of the wall, and dashed back to her car, looking furtively around as she did so. Slamming the door shut and locking it, she became aware of her heart pounding furiously and her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her whole body was trembling, forcing to admit to herself, that she was terrified.
Catching her breath, part of her felt compelled to stay and see her tormentor, but a bigger part of her made her turn the key in the ignition, and pull away, tyres squealing, in the direction of home.
